


“Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

by InTooManyFandomsRay



Series: 50 DAYS DIALOGUE PROMPTS [17]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Canon Era, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s04e01-02 The Darkest Hour, Evil Author Day, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, It's the Destiel confession scene but Merthur, M/M, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Pain, Pain. That's it., Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Merlin, Temporary Character Death, The Author Regrets Everything, insert Captain Holt meme, so it's only pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29636514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InTooManyFandomsRay/pseuds/InTooManyFandomsRay
Summary: What if the Veil demanded a sacrifice not of blood, but of the purest heart of love? And what if Merlin was the only one who could do it, and save the Kingdom?ORThe Destiel 15x18 confession scene, but Merthur style!
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: 50 DAYS DIALOGUE PROMPTS [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129253
Comments: 17
Kudos: 221





	“Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH AHEAD! BUT IT'S TEMPORARY I PROMISE! Also, lots of pain and angst.
> 
> I do not own the dialogues of the confession scene! The majority is taken from the Supernatural 15x18 episode, with minor changes to fit Merlin into it.

The Veil was shrouded in the thundering clouds of souls that surrounded it. The walls of the old fort threatened to break apart, and they would’ve if it were not for the magic in the very cracks of the foundation that held it together. The Cailleach stood guard just outside the swirling mass of darkness, waiting for the final sacrifice to close the Veil and bring forth peace once more. The Dorocha flew free right outside the doors of the hall, which prevented them from crossing over inside.

Four young men pushed the door open and stumbled inside before abruptly stopping in their tracks, stunned, looking at the cyclone of lost souls before them. It was only once their eyes drifted over to her that the Cailleach informed them of the task they needed to do.

She addressed the Prince first and foremost. “Arthur Pendragon. Do you know what is required to close the Veil?”

His face closed down, masking his fear as he took a step forward, despite the collective protests from the other men. He said, “I do. A blood sacrifice.”

The Cailleach grinned at his ignorance. Arthur frowned and unsheathed his sword, pointing it at her. She simply raised her staff, and the power that flowed through it struck the sword away from the Prince.

“Not just any blood sacrifice can close the Veil, young Pendragon. It is a sacrifice of the greatest sort.”

“What is it?”

“A sacrifice of the purest heart. Of the purest happiness. The Veil was opened at the sacrifice of a pure heart which was filled with hatred. Only the purest heart which is filled with love can close it,” she explained, each word echoing in the dark hall.

The men looked at each other, and before anyone could say anything, Sir Gwaine stepped forward.

“I’ll do it.”

“Gwaine, no!” Merlin cried, trying and failing at pulling the knight behind him. The Cailleach marveled at Emrys’s efforts. But sadly, even she could not choose who to sacrifice to close the tear in the fabric of the world. It was Veil himself who decided who it would need.

“Step forth, brave knight. But beware, if your heart be not the purest in love, you will be struck back to whence you started.”

Gwaine’s face took a determined look as he put a hand through the clouds. For a hopeful moment, nothing happened. And just when the men thought they had succeeded, the wind picked up around the knight, covering him in darkness, before subsiding, and Gwaine was nowhere to be found. A silence fell upon the room, with only the whispers of the Dorocha outside pushing against the door to fill the air.

“Where is he?!” Lancelot demanded.

The Cailleach did not fret at the rage of the young knight. She calmly responded, “He is where he once started.”

“I don’t think he’s dead, Lance,” Merlin said softly, putting a comforting hand on Lancelot’s shoulder. The Cailleach nodded at his wisdom.

“How would _you_ know, _Mer_ lin?” Arthur asked him with no bite to his tone, just mere annoyance. Merlin shrugged and tried to answer as nonchalantly as he could, “One of my feelings. I just know it.”

The Cailleach watched the remaining three men as they argued amongst themselves who would go next. When Sir Lancelot stepped forward, it seemed the decision had been made. However, when the Veil transported Lancelot elsewhere too, the Cailleach tried to conceal her disappointment and glee. The Dorocha thrummed against the door, threatening to blow it apart, and with it, the old ruins.

She knew what the Veil required. She spoke to Emrys directly in his mind now. “Emrys. It’s time.”

Merlin looked at Arthur, who looked utterly distraught now. He was on the verge of tears, running his dirty hand through his blonde locks again and again.

Arthur whispered, letting his emotions run free, “Everyone’s going to die, Merlin. And I- I can’t stop it.”

Merlin’s heart broke to see Arthur so broken. The Dorocha banged against the door again, making the whole castle shake, and the dust fell from the broken ceiling. Merlin devasted, turned towards Arthur, and saw his resignation. His guilt and his shame.

“The Dorocha will get through the door, and they will kill you. They will kill me. They will kill everyone we love,” Arthur said, blue eyes now faded to a dull grey, shining with unshed tears. Dawn now approached, as sunlight broke through the cracks in the roof. A ray of light fell on Arthur’s face, illuminating him, and something inside Merlin stung at the sight.

He looked at Arthur’s face, drained of hope. But he was still beautiful. Still Arthur Pendragon. He knew what he needed to do.

“Arthur,” He said, and the Prince looked at him. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Arthur glanced at him skeptically, thinking his friend was making a joke again. But he saw the serious look on Merlin’s face and stopped.

“I have magic.”

Three words. That’s all it took for Arthur’s world to come crashing around his ears. He had his doubts over the years, but he always dismissed them, because how could _Merlin_ , of all people, be a sorcerer? He _knew_ Merlin.

But now, Arthur thought, he perhaps didn’t know Merlin as well as he did.

“You, what?” he snapped, ignoring the flash of hurt that passed his servant’s face before it got whipped away by a small smile.

“I was born with it, Arthur. And I use it only for you,” Merlin continued, as though he had not heard Arthur. “The Druids have a name for me. Emrys. Apparently, I’m the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the Earth. I’ve always wondered, why me? I don’t deserve the power, and I have no clue why magic chose me to embody it. I’ve held that question close inside me all my life, just wondering why. The years chipped away my happiness as a child because of how lonely I got. I didn’t find my answer in Camelot either because the one thing I want, it’s something I know I can’t have. But now? I think... I think I know now. I’m happy right now.”

Merlin had tears in his eyes now, as he held Arthur’s gaze steadily. Arthur’s rage had mollified into something more curious, something more anxious.

“What are you on about, _Mer_ lin?”

A tear slipped down Merlin’s cheek and he hastily wiped it away with his sleeve.

“I know how you see yourself, Arthur. You’re angry, and your anger, and Uther’s anger, it’s what drives you. You think it’s who you are. Uther’s son. Prince Arthur. But it’s not. And everyone who knows you sees it too. To me, and to who loves you? You’re simply Arthur. To me, you’re a prat, of course,” Merlin chuckled, still crying. “But you’re Arthur. Everything you’ve ever done, the good _and_ the bad, you’ve done for love. You protected Morgana for love. You fought for your people _for love._ That is who you are. You’re the most caring, selfless, _loving_ , man I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing, of serving.”

Merlin smiles through his tears, not bothering to wipe them away now. He knows it won’t matter.

“The first time we met, on that square, I thought you were a right arse. A proper prat. But now? I know you’re so much more than that. You’ve grown into a person the people love and are proud of. I’ve watched you grow into the great man I’ve always known you would be. You’re the bravest man I’ve ever met. And you are my King. Not Uther. You are, and will always remain, My King. And one day, you’ll unite all the Kingdoms, with peace and love. Not war. You’ll bring forth the golden age of Albion because it’s who you are. You are the Once and Future King.” A single tear rolled down Merlin’s cheek as he laughed sadly at his own words. He had no hope of surviving this. So he knew he had to tell Arthur everything he could. And he would make him realize how good he was.

Arthur watched the man he loved spill what looked like his last words from his lips. His heart trembled and while his brain shouted at him to not trust a word he said, he knew in his heart, that Merlin was good. That Merlin was not betraying him. His magic did not matter at the moment, not when he was playing such a dangerous game. He watched his servant cry tears of hope and hopelessness, unable to move a limb to comfort him. Merlin’s words have hit him deeply, striking right at the core of all his doubts and fears.

“Merlin, what does this have to do with-” he choked on his words, as he took in what the young man was actually saying. He asked him in a resigned tone which covered his emotions, “Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

Merlin beamed at him from under his tears, taking a step towards him. “Because it is.”

Arthur truly looked at Merlin then, and he noticed his eyes burning gold, a beautiful shade which he saw ugly on others. On Merlin, however, even magic looked beautiful. Somehow, at that moment, Merlin looked the happiest he had ever seen him. The Dorocha continued their assault on the castle, but neither of the two paid it any mind.

Arthur inhaled a sharp take of breath, ready to argue to hell and back, but Merlin beat him to it.

“I love you, Arthur.”

And suddenly, Arthur forgot how to breathe. His feet were rooted in his spot as his heart pounded at the words that Merlin uttered. He wanted to speak his truth, tell Merlin how much he loved him, but he found himself unable to say the words.

Merlin knew, in his heart, that Arthur loved him too. But he did not need to say it for him to know. His destiny was to save Arthur, and he was doing just that. He just happened to fall in love with his destiny along the way. Finally able to speak his truth, he was happy. His heart felt so heavy and so full of love, Merlin thought he would explode. From somewhere in the room, the Cailleach spoke in his mind once again.

“The Veil awaits you, Emrys.”

He smiled at Arthur, his face free of any fear or doubt he once held, as he let go of his magic, which created shockwaves in the room. The cloud of souls behind him parted at his confession, waiting for him to step through. Merlin took Arthur’s face in his hands, cradling it softly.

“Merlin,” Arthur whispered, as he clutched the man he loved tightly at his waist. Merlin leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on his lips. It felt like a feather had grazed his lips, Arthur thought, and it was barely for a moment before Merlin was stepping back, out of his arms and his reach.

“Goodbye, Arthur.”

Before Arthur could say anything, Merlin had walked through the clouds and into the Dark Veil. Arthur fell to his knees, his cheeks wet with his tears. He couldn’t move, nor could he make a sound. He could only watch as the clouds in front of him roared as they got sucked into the Veil. The door behind him flew open, and the Dorocha whipped by his head and into the Veil.

When the wind calmed down, and the sun shone brightly through the cracked dome, Arthur uttered the first sound he made since Merlin went into the rift. He choked, as his emotions ran wild. He let out a feral cry, slamming his hand on the ground, causing the dust to fly.

Shattered, hopeless, alone. That’s how he felt. His stupid, insolent, idiot of a manservant had saved him, _again_ , and now, Arthur lost him. Forever. He died thinking Arthur wouldn’t forgive him for his magic. Arthur lost the chance to tell him what he meant to him, and now he could never get it back.

He stayed there screaming Merlin’s name until his throat ran dry, and his cheeks stung with tears. There was not even a body to take home, to show Gaius, to bury.

Gaius. Oh, gods, Arthur thought, how could he ever face him again? And Hunith? How could he ever tell her that her only son had died, saving the world? His heart filled with shame at the prospect of returning to Camelot, but his decision was made for him when Gwaine and Lancelot burst in.

They saw the grief-stricken body of the prince, and the lack of Merlin in the room and they realized what had happened. Three hearts cried at the loss of a loved one, and three pairs of eyes were filled with regret and sorrow.

The journey back to Camelot was a silent one. The quiet was broken when Gwen flung her arms around Lancelot in relief, but when she didn’t find Merlin among them, her own tears of happiness turned to one of sadness.

Arthur announced that the people were safe that evening, his voice unable to hide the pain his soul held. Gaius was quiet when Arthur spoke about Merlin and his bravery, his sacrifice. But that night, the castle echoed with the broken cries of the old man.

The next day, Arthur’s eyes were rimmed with red, indicating his lost sleep. He immediately started working on the removal of the ban on magic. Merlin had shown him that magic was beautiful. How could it not be, when Merlin himself was magic? Arthur’s chest hurt at the thought of Merlin, but he pushed away his feelings and concentrated on bringing magic back to his kingdom. Damn whatever his father said now. His father was wrong.

The now regent King, once he was done drafting the appeal to rescind the ban, packed his bags, and set off alone to Ealdor to deliver the news to Hunith. He would beg for her forgiveness because he couldn’t forgive himself.

\---

The inside of the Veil was cold. It was colder than ice. Merlin couldn’t feel the cold, however, because his magic still burned to keep him warm. He flexed his fingers and realized he was still alive.

He mused aloud, “How am I still alive?”

“Because you are magic, Emrys. And magic cannot die,” the Veil echoed from around him.

“I’m Merlin, not Emrys. Please,” his voice broke at the end. He wanted to be remembered as Merlin, and not Emrys. A chuckle broke through the air, or at least that’s what Merlin wanted to think. The air hissed in synch, like snakes singing, which very much sounded like a laugh to Merlin’s ears.

“Merlin,” the voice whispered in his ears. “Your heart is pure and full of love. You have passed the test.”

“Test?” Merlin asked, now confused. The voice gave him a headache, with all the hissing and rough edge to it.

“Yesss, Merlin. A test. To see if you are truly worthy of the magic bestowed upon you by the Gods of the Old Religion. And you have passed.”

Merlin decided to push his luck. “So I’m free to go?”

The Veil hissed again, and Merlin winced. The sound pounded against his skull, which seemed to rattle in his head. “Yes.”

Light peaked through the darkness in the rift, indicating an opening. Merlin knew where he wanted to go. Not to Arthur, not yet. He needed his mother.

His head filled with thoughts of Ealdor as he walked towards the light and out into the brownfields of Ealdor.

\---

Arthur stood outside Hunith’s door. His heart hammered in his chest as he tried to keep his tears from falling. It took him two days to reach Ealdor. Two entire days, all by himself and his thoughts to keep him company. It’s safe to say that it does things to a man’s mind. Especially to one who recently lost the love of his life.

Taking a deep breath, as though preparing himself, he knocked on her door.

A beat passed. Then another.

And then the door opened to reveal a familiar black mop of hair that Arthur hadn’t dreamed of seeing again.

They stood there silently looking at each other. Merlin saw how exhausted and defeated Arthur looked, but when the sun shone on his blonde hair, he still looked beautiful. Arthur noticed how Merlin was covered in grime and dirt, but when the sun shone on his face, he still looked beautiful. Then, both of them letting go of whatever was holding them back jumped into an embrace.

Arthur wound his arms tightly around Merlin’s waist and buried his head in the man’s neck, breathing his soapy, lavender scent in. Merlin had flung his arms around Arthur’s neck and held on just as tightly.

Both didn’t let go for several moments and simply held on to each other as their lives depended on it. When he broke apart, it was barely for a second before Arthur leaned in again, this time crashing his lips on Merlin’s. The warlock’s hands cradled Arthur’s face, as he kissed back just as enthusiastically.

When they broke apart, Merlin brought their foreheads together as they panted to catch their breath. Before Merlin could say anything, Arthur pushed him back, his eyes blazing with fury. “YOU ABSOLUTE _IDIOT_ , WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?”

Merlin winced at how Arthur’s voice rose with every word, the concern openly visible. The other villagers were now beginning to gather around, and so, Merlin caught Arthur’s arm and pulled him inside the hut, shutting the door quickly. Arthur let out a squawk of protest, still red in the face due to the snogging and shouting.

“Arthur..” Merlin began to say, but Arthur held up a hand, a clear indication for him to stop speaking. For once, Merlin actually shut up.

“Don’t. Do not say a word, _Merlin_ ,” Arthur said, voice laced with barely suppressed anger. “Do you have _any_ idea what I went through? What _Gaius_ is going through?”

At Gaius’s mention, Merlin let out a small whimper, knowing that the old man must be heartbroken. He was going to write him a letter, but he didn’t get the opportunity. His mother had stepped out for some work, and that was the only reason he was not getting an earful right now about his behavior.

Arthur continued on his rageful rampage, “You cannot just _say_ such things, and then bloody sacrifice yourself. Do you have a single bone of self-preservation in you?”

Merlin opened his mouth but quickly shut it at the sharp look Arthur sent him.

“You are _not_ to do that again. As regent King, I forbid you.” Arthur told him, glaring at him with shining blue eyes. His lips were drawn shut tightly, cheeks flushed, with rage or the kiss, Merlin couldn’t tell. He nodded swiftly.

Arthur looked at him for another beat before his entire body sagged, the tension leaving his shoulders. They met in a soft embrace, as Arthur rested his head on Merlin’s shoulder and his body began to shake with tears. Merlin held his king tightly as the latter let his emotions finally run free. Behind him, the door opened and Hunith silently stepped in. She took in the sight before her and just as quietly, she went back out, shutting the door behind her.

The warlock and his King stayed in their embrace for a long time. Arthur stayed the one night over, and then the next day, the two of them set back for Camelot.

It’s sufficed to say that their entrance caused quite a commotion, with more tears and hugs. Merlin met Arthur’s eyes from the middle of the crowd. The king’s look said a lot of things to him, but the one that stood out the most was love. Merlin smiled and Arthur returned the gesture, his emotion open on his face.

The look they shared was seen by all the people surrounding them, and soon, rumors would float once again of the strong warlock, who insisted on being a servant of the regent king, and Arthur, the regent King who kept the young man close to him at all times, despite his insolent behavior. The rumors would whisper among themselves in the servant’s quarters, making their way to the small shops in the lower towns, reaching the ears of the brave knights of Camelot, and even into the ears of the Nobles who visited and those who stayed in Camelot.

The rumors of a love so strong that even Death couldn’t hold them apart.

A love that was so strong that ballads would be written about them. A love that defied destiny and time and won against all odds. A love that would inspire lovers across all the Kingdoms far and wide. The love of the Once and Future King and his Warlock.

The love of Arthur and Merlin.

**Author's Note:**

> Pls gib comments themku


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